


Never as good as I feel right now

by upbeat



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, hangovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upbeat/pseuds/upbeat
Summary: A few days after their opening launch, David and Patrick have too much to drink at a wine tasting with a new vendor and come to work the next day completely hungover.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 27
Kudos: 173





	Never as good as I feel right now

The morning sunlight pours in slowly, stretching long and bright across the hardwood floor. It’s quiet and a little too warm inside, the air conditioning having not yet kicked in. A shadow from a lone passerby outside glides quickly in and out of the store.

“Hey.” Patrick taps his foot against the side of David’s shoe. “We should really open up soon.”

It's seven minutes to nine. They’re sitting upright, side by side, on the floor in front of the register. David's sunglasses are still on, expertly hiding his eyes and the entire upper-third of his face, and he doesn’t even seem to care that the bottom of his jeans are probably picking up remnants of dirt and dust that he was too lazy to sweep up last night before he and Patrick had rushed off to their newest vendor's wine tasting event in Elmdale. 

Patrick nudges David’s foot again. His eyes are half closed. 

“Mmm, no,” David whines. He pushes his head back against the base of the counter. The wood is hard and unforgiving and David squeezes his eyes shut as his head throbs steadily. “No opening the store. Ever. I’m just going to sit here until I die.” He swallows thickly. “Which may actually be very soon considering how much I threw up at the motel this morning. And then also on my way here.” 

Patrick leans back against the counter cautiously and squints up toward the ceiling. "Well, you know, David, I'm honestly impressed you’re here in the first place. And on time, too. I thought you were going to call out sick for sure.” He laughs weakly. 

David sucks in a deep breath and slides down a little further onto the floor. His glasses are sitting lopsided on his face now, the ends pushing up against the counter behind him as he twists his head toward Patrick. "Didn't think it'd be fair to make you come here and suffer alone," he says on a long exhale. 

The air conditioning clicks on with a gentle whir. 

Patrick’s mouth curves upward into a half-smile. “Thank you. That’s... surprisingly very thoughtful. Now, come on.” He presses his palms against the floor, pushing himself forward, a feeble attempt to get up. The room spins once counterclockwise and the pounding in his head is back, heavy and insistent. “Oh, no, alright, maybe not.” He slumps back down against the register.

“Ugh,” David groans loudly. “ _What_ was in that wine?” 

Patrick closes his eyes and presses his fingers into the bridge of his nose. He half laughs, half moans, a pitiful noise altogether. “I think we might just be getting too old for this, David.”

“ _God_ , I haven’t been this hungover since the night I went bar-hopping in SoHo… five, six years ago?”

“Mm.” He rubs his fingers over his eyes. “Twenty-first birthday party?” 

David imagines the teasing glint in Patrick’s eyes if he could only see them. He huffs. “Not quite,” he says and pulls his legs in tight, wrapping his hands around his knees. “My boyfriend at the time had just broken up with me and my friends _insisted_ I go out for some drinks to take my mind off the fact that he had been cheating on me for _months_.” He laughs sadly. 

The space between them falls silent.

“Sorry, um…” David shakes his head lightly. “I don’t -- I don’t know why I just told you all of that.” He chews the inside of his cheek.

"It’s okay," Patrick says after a second. "You don’t need to apologize." 

David takes a risk and removes his sunglasses, keeping his eyes closed still from the bright light spilling into the store. 

"We’ve all had those nights,” Patrick continues, his voice drowsy but cheerful. He folds his legs in together and rests his head back against the counter. “We’ve all made bad decisions.” 

David opens one eye at that, curiosity getting the best of him. He glances down and Patrick regards him with a tired tilt of his head. 

"There you are." He smiles.

David rolls his one eye at him and then, after a few seconds, he opens the other. He blinks slowly at Patrick, his eyes adjusting to the sight of his profile in the harsh daylight. His gaze lingers for a second, on his soft smile, frustratingly encouraging despite the implacable pain throbbing at the base of both their skulls. 

He clears his throat. “Well, um, _that_ one bad decision was supposed to be my last.”

“That much bar-hopping, huh?”

“Um, no, I wasn’t… I wasn’t talking about the... drinking…” he trails off, looking down at his hands still wrapped around his knees. 

“Oh, David, I --”

“-- It’s just… like, a part of me _knew_ that I shouldn’t have been with him, that he was wrong for me, that he would hurt me. But I… I still wanted him. I still wanted to be with him. I thought maybe the reward would be worth it... or something.” He stretches his legs outward. “And after it took me a _year_ to get over that one bad decision, I made a promise to never make another one. But, we all know how well that turned out.” He rolls his eyes and waves his hand with a mournful air. 

“David,” Patrick offers gently but doesn’t say anything more. He shifts a little closer to him instinctively. 

They sit in a comfortable silence for a moment before Patrick nudges David’s shoulder. 

“Hey…” He raises up his right hand, his fingers curved around an imaginary glass. "Here's to all the bad decisions we've ever made,” he proclaims too loudly for their current state of mind, but he’s grinning and his eyes are so kind and familiar that David thinks he feels his headache dissipating. “And to all the ones that we have yet to make.”

David laughs just as loudly, shutting his eyes and rolling his head to the side, away from Patrick. "Oh God, no more toasts, please. We made enough of those last night." 

Patrick looks up at the ceiling, a fond smile on his face. "Right… what did -- what did we toast to again?"

David thinks for a bit. He scrunches up his nose, trying to remember anything from the previous night that didn’t involve alcohol. "Um… creamy peanut butter, was one, I think," he finally recalls.

"Ah, yes,” Patrick says. “And... clean socks."

“... Baby elephants.”

“Meryl Streep.”

“Waterfalls.”

“-- Both in nature and the song,” Patrick adds.

"Two-in-one hair care products," David says with a shudder. "That one was all you."

"Cute butts," Patrick says. "That one was all _you._ "

They laugh together.

Then, with his left hand, Patrick reaches for David’s, his fingers lightly gripping the base of his thumb. He lifts David’s hand up toward his. "To cute butts and bad decisions." He clinks their imaginary glasses together. 

They laugh again and it almost seems breathless now. Patrick’s fingers slide up David’s hand until they’re resting on his knuckles. His forefinger lays flat against David’s and he squeezes ever so slightly.

"Is this another bad decision?" David asks after a moment, quieter than he expected. 

Patrick drops their hands and brings his own to his lap. It suddenly all feels too heavy. 

“Um…” David plays with the rings on his hand, still warm from where Patrick’s fingers had been. “The um --” he clears his throat. “-- The wine tasting. Last night.”

Patrick runs that same hand through his hair and scratches the back of his head. He lets out a quick laugh. “Well, I, uh, I think we got a pretty good deal with the winery…” he answers softly. “So I think this is one bad decision that will be worth it.” His words are slow and careful. 

Suddenly David’s phone buzzes once from his bag on the countertop, startling them both. He groans but makes no effort to get up and check it. 

“Ugh,” he shuts his eyes tightly instead. “I felt that in my _bones.”_

Patrick stirs next to him. “Okay, we should really open the store now.”

“Fine,” David relents after a sizable pause.

Neither of them move. 

“I don’t think I can stand up. We’ll just have to cash people out from down here.” David's eyes are still closed, pinched slightly in pain, but there’s a faint smile on his lips. He sighs. “You think we’re going to feel like this forever?” 

“Mm,” Patrick hums. He turns and stares momentarily at David before leaning in sideways, pressing their shoulders lazily together, closing the little space left between them. “Sure feels that way.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from “The Waiting" by Tom Petty.


End file.
